“Lazarus?” Freya shook her head as she finished making the bed. Not that she’d slept at all in the past three nights. Every time she closed her eyes she couldn’t help but see Mal slipping away from her into a cold, wet darkness, and she woke biting back on a scream. “Why would we want to go there?”

“River wants it,” Zoe explained, standing in the doorway. “More, I think she needs it.”

“Why?”

Zoe took a deep breath. “Frey, losing Mal like this, it’s … she’s finding it hard.”

“ She’s finding it hard?” There was a sudden sharpness in her tone.

Zoe didn’t let it stop her. “There’s a lot of grief on board, and in her current state, she’s feeling everything.”

“She didn’t lose a husband.” Freya spoke quietly, but the sharpness had turned hard as stone.

“No. But I did. And I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” Freya turned on her. “You got to bury yours! I can’t!”

They were almost toe to toe. “And I didn’t move fast enough to save him,” Zoe said softly, seeing the stake coming through the bridge window again. “All the time I thought it was going to be me dying first, not coming back from a job, and he just sat there and I couldn’t save him.”

“I couldn’t try!”

Zoe waited, wanted the tears to start, to see the pain of admitting he was never coming back break her down, but Freya didn’t give in. Instead there was only anger at herself, at everyone else. “No, you couldn’t. None of us could.”

The heat drained out of her and she blinked. “You think it’ll help River?”

“Yes. And Sam’s still there. He’ll talk to her. Talk to any of us that need it.” The implication was clear.

“Then …” Freya nodded, backing down. “I guess Lazarus. But we drop River and go, dong mah ?”

“ Dang rahn .” She wasn't surprised at Freya’s refusal to even consider talking to Sam, and turned to leave.

“Zoe.”

“Yes?”

“Would you … could you get my stuff from … I need a few things and I’m a trifle busy at the moment.” She motioned at the perfectly tidy room.

Zoe looke